Pittsburgh and Peru: Dynamic Duo?

The Lost City and The Steel City make the ranks of National Geographic´s ¨Best Places.¨

The normal sequencing of this blog is being interrupted to bring you a special announcement.  National Geographic Traveler just released its ¨Best Places to Visit in 2012¨ and I am quite pleased to say that both Pittsburgh, PA and Peru have made the list.  The criteria used to create such a list is unclear--especially since small cities are given the same consideration as entire countries--but I for one have always been an advocate for the natural charm and social character of both destinations.

Peru offers countless manmade and natural wonders--it houses not only the awe-inspiring architecture of the Incas, but also the deepest canyons and one of the largest bird varieties  in the world; Pittsburgh´s city skyline via Mt. Washington offers stunning views of the city´s three rivers, bridges, and the steel edifices that forever revolutionized city architecture. Peru draws visitors seeking to learn about the history and culture of fallen empires; Pittsburgh attracts those who want to celebrate America´s football empire, as well as film directors looking to give their characters a new home. 

Perhaps the comparison is far-fetched for the average reader, but for me, the two places are inevitably tangled. They´re my two favorite places in the world, however big or small they may seem.

Read the full National Geographic article here.

Food for Thought

A few weeks ago, Peruvian President Ollanta Humala made the push for Unesco to add Peruvian cuisine to the World Heritage List.  The request comes as no surprise to Peruvians and tourists alike, who must put on their eating pants every time they leave the house: food is not only cheap, but hearty staples like rice, potatoes, and steak come in heaping portions.  Even more than that, each forkful you bite into here comes with the knowledge that you´re sharing in an evolution of taste, a gastronomy influenced by Andean, Spanish, Asian, and African products and flavors.  Here´s just an appetizer platter-sized summary of the Peruvian food revolution:

1.)     The potato

Spanish conquistadors supplied cattle and pigs, but potatoes claim Peru as their true homeland. The potato was first cultivated between 8,000 and 5,000 B.C., its adaptable nature making it one of the first successful crops to survive the stubborn Andean terrain.  The native Andean tribes carved giant terraces into the mountainsides to cultivate their food and developed irrigation systems to prevent erosion.

Flash forward to any Peruvian menú restaurant in 2011, where the spud serves as the accompaniment of choice to Peruvian plates like pollo a la brasa (rotisserie-style chicken) and lomo saltado (stir fry), or stands alone as an appetizer in the form of papa a la huancaína (boiled potato in a special sauce made of cheese, milk, and ají amarillo) or causa (mashed potato and chicken/tuna casserole).  Peru— the true innovator of the meat-and-potato diet.

2.)    The ají pepper
Used as a spread for sandwiches and a dipping sauce for French fries, ají sauce is the ketchup of Peruvian cuisine. This piquant little pepper is also used to make one of Peru´s staple dishes, ají de gallina, chicken served with rice and vegetables in a creamy yellow ají sauce.  The existence of the ají pepper in South America is thought to date back to at least 2,500 B.C., and is most popularly represented in the artwork of the Moche culture.

3.)    Ceviche
Ceviche´s origin is thought to reach back to the Inca Empire, during which time fermented corn and fruit (mainly tumbo) juices were used to make the dish.  The Spaniards offered up their limes and onions, while the Japanese immigrants brought ginger and their mastery fish preparation. Today, ceviche is Peru´s national dish and is popularly prepared with raw fish and fresh citrus juices.

4.)    Chifa
Wander through the streets of downtown Lima and you´ll eventually stumble across the red arch of el Barrio Chino, Chinatown.  Yet the influence of Chinese cooking cannot be contained within these few streets.  Chifa restaurants are almost as ubiquitous as combis in Peru, especially in Lima, where they can be found on almost every other block.  The term chifa itself is a uniquely Peruvian word used to describe the fusion between the countries´ two cuisines, largely caused by the need to adapt traditional Chinese dishes to include readily available Peruvian ingredients. 

5.)    Cuy
Disclaimer: If you grew up in a world where guinea pigs were pampered, fluffy pets named Domino or Buckwheat, this past post may not be for you.

Here in Peru, the cuy (guinea pig) is much more than a pet.  Domesticated as early as 5,000 B.C., guinea pigs were once considered a sacred animal by indigenous peoples.  They were believed to have healing powers and so were rubbed onto the body of diseased tribal members until they made a cooing noise to indicate the area of infection/sickness.  At that point, the cuy would be split open for the healer to examine the internal organs of the rodent and diagnose the disease.

Cuy entree at Jesus´ Last Supper, as depicted by Marcos Zapata

But what´s probably more difficult for English-speakers to swallow is the consumption of their domesticated pets at Peruvian dinner tables.  High in protein and low in fat and cholesterol, quick to reproduce and able to thrive in a wide range of environments, cuy holds a significant place in Peruvian diet, particularly for highlanders.  Even worse to picture—when cuy makes its way to the table, it comes bearing paws and all. 

For more on Peruvian food:
Glossary of Peruvian Cuisine
Pisco Trail

Ode to the Agrarian

¨How is it possible to feel nostalgia for a world I never knew?¨  ---Ernesto Che Guevara, The Motorcycle Diaries

I spent my Saturday in the company of cows, llamas, and alpacas. The visit didn´t involve travel to Cusco or the northern highlands, but rather a one-hour combi ride to La Molina, an affluent and somewhat suburban-feeling district of Lima that happens to be home to the Universidad Nacional Agraria La Molina (National Agrarian University—La Molina).  The trip was made possible by our good friend Enrique, who studied at the university and wanted to share it with us.

While some of us marveled at seeing farm animals up close and personal for the first time, others felt not as if they were experiencing something new and exotic, but old and familiar.  I belonged to the latter group.  Corn stalks and cows grazing are the typical scenery of a Sunday drive to my grandparents´ house, who used to operate a dairy farm in the quiet countryside of west central Pennsylvania.

Right at home, abroad--Universidad Nacional Agraria

Even though the instances of farm living are becoming rarer and rarer in my hometown, the agrarian tradition of our ancestors is still apparent in many rituals: county fairs, pumpkin carvings, hay rides through corn stalks, senior photos posed in front of props like tractors and wicker chairs. I´ve never milked a cow myself, but as I petted cow MRN 1067, I reflected on how my grandpa used to milk them every day, on how my mom used to say we skim-milk drinkers didn´t know what real milk tasted like, on how she said it was a special treat to ride along with my grandpa on Christmas mornings to make deliveries.  I thought about how my grandpa´s thick fingers and strong, wrinkled hands are the markers of years of dedication to hard physical labor.  Some jobs can be left in an office; others become a way of life.

¨I wouldn´t give you a nickel to travel,¨ my grandpa might say, dismissing my entire move to Peru with one decisive head shake. Likewise he´d probably make the city of Lima pay him before he would move into the thick cloud of smog and cacophonous soundtrack of car horns.

I´ve spent three years trying to piece together the connection I feel to Peru—why I´m fascinated by the lush green terraces and massive stone structures of an empire to which I share no common genealogy, culture, language, or history.  I´ve fumbled for logical explanations, reached for words I did not have.  Why would I spend six months halfway across the world at the expense of separating myself from everything and everyone I knew? 

I´m still not quite sure I can pinpoint the reason, but it seems to me it has something to do with a connection to seed and soil.  With the potato that stubbornly budges its way from the Andean earth against all odds, and the quiet resilience of a farmer, whose stubbornness brings even bigger surprises, defies even greater odds.